


Peripeteia

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Sex, Bottom Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, Featuring: kylo still climbing that dick, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Power Play, Spit As Lube, TLJ Spoilers, and me losing all abilities of giving a shit, nobody is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 05:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: Every twitch, every too-wide stretch of lips cinches Kylo’s patience. He crosses his legs, scrapes his nails across his jaw through his gloves. Control has never been part of his temperament, but Kylo has no intention of breaking the General.





	Peripeteia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youdidnotseeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdidnotseeme/gifts), [cracktheglasses (cormallen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/gifts).



> merry frikin crisis to ydnsm and corm u evil friks that keep egging me on (bless u both wonderful ppl). pls have a kylo having the time of his life being a failure on my behalf <3 
> 
> to everyone else: i have absolutely given up giving a shit

So few remain with trust in the First Order; the failure of the young Supreme Leader had not gone unnoticed in the blaze of firing cannons that only served to score the empty surface of a salt plain.

Another mistake. Another embarrassment. There isn’t doubt that the General’s blabbering is an expression of delight in the face of Kylo’s failure.

Since the moment Hux opened his mouth to unroll the reams of words reporting troop movements, Kylo heard nothing. He watches the General from behind the hand that is holding his chin up where he is slouched at the desk displaying contents of datacards.

The sycophant’s mouth opens and closes like a march beat in the blue light, cutting apart syllables with teeth that Kylo is certain were recently chipped from the collision with a wall. Kylo can still see the cut on the lip – raw and untended.

Every twitch, every too-wide stretch of lips cinches Kylo’s patience. He crosses his legs, scrapes his nails across his jaw through his gloves. Control has never been part of his temperament, but Kylo has no intention of breaking the General.

He stares at the striped cuffs of Hux’s coat, imagining them as the planetoid rings of a moon. It is accidental that, when Kylo’s eyes begin to blur on the contrasts of black and white, he hears the muffled backlog of words. Not quite a conversation, one-sided, like a ripple on the air. Kylo looks up to meet the General’s eyes and sees that what he hears does not match the streams leaving his lips.

_Selfish child—He’s manic—manic—_

It is rare that Kylo hears unspoken thoughts without searching for them. Hux must be outright screaming inside his dense cranium for Kylo to receive the stray words.

_Inept—Child—Hypocritical, moronic—He is incompetent—Dangerous—_

There aren’t only words: Kylo feels the restrained twitches in Hux’s hands that are aching to throw Kylo onto the floor and reach for the blaster that hangs from Hux’s hip.

Kylo smiles against his palm. The General knows better than to raise a hand against his Supreme Leader. Smart little soldier – can do no wrong.

_Impudent—Ought to be shown his—place—_

Yet the courtesy is not due to be shown both ways. Kylo blinks aside from Hux’s stare and puts his fist underneath his chin as his smile draws down into a tight line.

“Remove your blaster from the holster,” Kylo says mid-word of the sycophant’s speech.

Hux balks and his red-rimmed eyes stutter through blinks. “Supreme Leader?”

“Remove your blaster,” Kylo gestures with a lose hand, “from the holster you are wearing.”

The good soldier he is, Hux takes his hand underneath the coat and removes the blaster – hand not quite steady, not prepared to press on the trigger.

“Shoot me,” Kylo tells the General.

Hux splutters, jerking his armed hand aside. “What—? You have become _insane_ —”

Kylo watches him with an expression of shocked offence. “Lift your blaster and shoot me,” he repeats. “Is that not what you want?”

The weapon creaks in the black fist of Hux’s glove. His jaw is tense, like he is considering it, but he does not raise the blaster. Kylo feels his temptation – it would only take the squeeze of the trigger. But the General knows better; it would take less for Kylo to reverse the blast.

“You can’t, can you?” Kylo allows himself a smirk. “You are too afraid of the consequences.”

Hux opens his mouth to plea an argument.

“You can’t raise a hand against me,” tells him Kylo, standing from the lazy sprawl of his seat. “You can never unbalance me, not when you are below me.”

Shadows of passing starfighters skitter across the floor, eclipsing over Hux. His eyes widen in the pale starlight.

Kylo steps toward him, a hand outstretched toward the blaster. “Do you know what that means, General?” He touches the shell of the weapon’s casing, stroking his fingertips down its length to the knuckles of the General’s hand. “I may do any petty or lewd thing I want to you, but can you raise a hand to stop me? No.”

There it is, that restless red mouth opening again, showing the cut that Kylo wishes he was responsible for.

Kylo grasps Hux by the jaw before he can shape a word. The General buckles under the shock of the contact and the blaster clatters on the floor. The sound shakes him from the stupor, but his retaliation does not come as Kylo throws Hux down onto the empty seat.

Hux crashes into the padded leather and slips down, his elbows hooked around the armrests, legs thrown out toward Kylo. He looks dazed, hair thrown back, mouth tight lipped but eyes wide. He moves to run.

“Just stay _down_ ,” Kylo commands and Hux jerks back as though struck. His legs and arms spasm and it is a pleasure for Kylo to see the stiff lipped General pinned like a half-crushed insect. It will do Hux good – it will teach him not to bask in Kylo’s failure.

He walks toward Hux, slow and easy. “You know it is better this way.”

Feet scrape on the floor as Hux tries to push himself out of the seat. His teeth are locked in a grimace as his desperation picks up fervour when he sees Kylo approach him.

“I told you: _stay down_.”

Kylo’s gloved hand replaces the lock of the Force around Hux’s throat and the snarl of a rabid animal fills the room. A thumb teases the cut of Hux’s lip, breaking apart the scab for blood to seethe. Kylo does not reconsider his choice to take a taste.

“I will do as I want,” he tells Hux and his lips catch on the broken skin of the General’s grimace. “And I will take what I want.”

“Re—!” Teeth click, almost chipping once again.

Without preamble, Kylo reaches beneath Hux’s uniform tunic and hooks his fingers into the buckles of his trousers. He feels the tremors in Hux’s body that tell Kylo that if not for the Force, the General would have broken his jaw with a knee and left him to bleed out from his mouth.

The waistband of Hux’s trousers slips over his hips that jerk when Kylo clasps his palm over the bulge of his flaccid cock.

“You feel this?” Kylo rubs Hux through the thin, rough fabric of his underwear, grasping his crotch as though it’s no more than a toy. “It is mine to use.”

Hux’s eyes finally close when his dignity is taken with the frail strip of fabric. Kylo can see him brace for pain, for humiliation. Hux does not except to hear knees dropping on the floor and feel a warm tongue on the bare skin of his cock.

“Open your eyes, General,” Kylo whispers before pressing his open lips to the shaft that he feels involuntarily hardening under his touch. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Did you not wish to see your co-commander on his knees?”

Kylo closes his eyes as he pulls Hux forward by the thighs and takes his cock inside his mouth. There is a hiccup that barely scrapes the line of a moan. Kylo wraps gloved fingers around the base of the cock as he licks the swelling head, wrapping his lips around it and sucking it into firmness.

There is a fine shiver passing through Hux’s thighs as grunts catch in his throat, faltering at his sealed lips.

Kylo lifts his head and meets eyes with Hux as he continues to stroke the thickening cock in his hand. “Is this how you imagined it?” he asks. “Did you think I would get on my knees for you? Will you imagine this again?”

There is a flush on Hux’s neck, prickling his cheeks as his eyes become glassy. His teeth appear from behind curling lips.

“No need to deny your thoughts.” Each stroke of Kylo’s hand rushes blood into the plumping cock. “I see how you stare at my mouth. How did you describe it in your mind—? _Cock sucking_. Was that it?”

An inhuman screech pushes against Hux’s lips when Kylo swallows around his dick, tasting the filth of the General’s precum on his tongue. Hux is spasming, frantically. It’s just too easy.

Kylo indulges in the weight of the cock on his tongue until he becomes bored and pulls away. He does not wipe the saliva from his lips as he climbs onto Hux’s lap, his thighs pressed between the curved metal of the armrests and Hux, boots hanging over the edge. The General watches Kylo with glassy eyes set deep into bruises of sleepless cycles, confused as Kylo reaches beneath his surcoat and pulls on his own waistband.

Kylo drags his trousers and underwear down until they yank over the curve of his ass. He shakes off a glove and pushes two bare fingers into his mouth, making a show of it under Hux’s stare. He sucks the fingers until his lips touch the palm and closes his eyes when he presses on his tongue – as though it is a cock.

Kylo slips the fingers out of his pursed lips and reaches behind himself. It isn’t the most pleasant sensation, to have fingers eased only with spit pushing inside. But Kylo arches into the feeling, holding up his surcoat and ignoring his cock – still held in the rolled fabric of his trousers.

Pleasure is not the point of this, and so Kylo does not waste his time to rub his fingertips into his prostate, focusing instead of the necessary stretch of his digits. Too quickly, Kylo removes them and stares down onto the confusion on Hux’s bright flushed face.

“Do you think I would fuck you? Humiliate you?” Kylo laughs and feels the ache on his face from the red that has taken it. “No. I will remind you that no matter how depraved I am, you are always below me.”

The General’s eyes disappear behind the purple veined lids as Kylo reaches for his cock and squeezes it, pressing the engorged head against his entrance. As he seats himself, tangled in half-undone clothes, Kylo begins to lose hold over Hux and hears the rasp of strained words.

Kylo places his hands on the armrests of the chair and allows himself to drop over the General’s thighs. Kylo’s lips are open from the ache that the stretch has caused – it radiates from the small of his back and his legs are straining to accommodate.

“Ren—”

Kylo looks down and sees that Hux has dropped deeper into the slope of the seat’s back. His hair is matted against the leather and eyes are drooping in a strange suggestion of laziness.

“Stop—Don’t—” Strained hands touch Kylo’s bare hips underneath his surcoat, trying to push him back.

“Are you saying you don’t want me?” Kylo murmurs as he rocks in the General’s lap, listening to the hinges of the seat creak underneath his weight. He grasps the headrest and pushes himself down harder onto Hux’s thighs. “You don’t want to _fuck_ me?”

“Moron—” Hux gasps, trapped underneath Kylo’s body. “You’ll—Hurt—” His words break when his head is thrusted back against the leather, his eyes squeezed.

“You think that this—” Kylo whispers, reaching back to clench in his hand the cock that is slipping from his ass. “—Is the most I’ve ever taken? Enough to hurt me?” He pushes his thumb on the head when it leaves his body and watches Hux wince before reseating himself on the cock.

The leather squeaks and Kylo’s thighs push out against the armrests as he rides Hux’s lap, ignoring the chafing of his clothes and the scrape of his heels against Hux’s knees. There are gasps, suggestions of words, but Kylo chokes them silent when he squeezes Hux’s jugular with his own hand and uses it for purchase.

Denial has suited Kylo for years with the static in the forefront of his mind, clouding all other interests. But, for now, there is nothing hindering him from indulging in the cock stuffing him, pushing against his prostate and leaving him slick as he rises. Kylo hears the wet sounds of his languid riding, coupled with the frantic gulps pushing against his hand locked on Hux’s throat.

Kylo does not notice his pace change, the way the seat is rattling against the floor, or how Hux’s mouth hangs open on his reddening face. His eyes are closed, lashes dark with tears, and saliva drops from his lips. Kylo does not see this and does not feel how hard his hand is squeezing, depriving Hux of air.

Kylo bows over the headrest, pushing Hux into the leather. Sweat is soaking the folds of his clothes, chafing the joints of his hips, his chest and the straining knees as he pushes himself fully onto Hux.

Really, it took nothing, and as the weight of his orgasm dissipates, Kylo hears his own whines. They are ugly little sounds, but they don’t compare to the guttural wheezes underneath him.

Kylo peels open his heated eyelids and looks down onto the mottled smear of red hair pressed between his chest and the backrest of the seat. Kylo leans back across Hux’s thighs and smiles at the sight of the General’s red face as he gulps for air to fill his heaving lungs. His forehead is damp with sweat and his lips are bright scarlet, lopsided and broken with fresh cuts.

As Kylo shifts, he feels the rigid weight of the cock inside him. With his hands on Hux’s knees, he rises and falls, swaying his hips and clenching in rhythm of the breathless hitches that come from Hux. Kylo stares down at the General, biting his lips at the sight of his gulping throat. Hux’s watery eyes watch his own cock sink inside Kylo’s body, somewhere behind the strip of black cloth that remains bound around his full thighs.

Only a hiccupping breath warns Kylo as he is filled with warm cum. Despite himself, he sighs and presses into the feeling, closing his eyes.

Release – it’s the most simple and selfish thing. Kylo’s legs are shaking, arms begging to give away, but his mind is silent.

“Get _off_ me.”

It suits the General, that breathless voice, and Kylo is proud of his work. He does not move, not even when Hux tries to push from beneath him – still lax and drooping underneath Kylo’s body.

“You remember, General Hux, that this—” Kylo squeezes around the softening, dripping cock inside him. “—Belongs to me.”

Hux’s sore eyes fixate on Kylo. Then, something surges in him and Kylo realises that he has lost all control over Hux. He expects the General to shove him onto the floor, to strike him. It would be rather easy.

Instead, Kylo feels a sex-slack hand reach underneath his arm and grasp a palmful of his flushed ass. The gloved fingers scrape over the damp skin, pinching it.

“And you, Kylo Ren,” rasps Hux with a slight smirk on his violent lips, “also remember that this belongs to me.”

It takes a long silence for Kylo to admit a smile. “Then we have reached an understanding, General? I do rather like this throne.”

He feels the response, it comes as a second hand, palming his thigh, dragging him in.

 

 

 


End file.
